Despite Julius Caesar taking up a lot of time I've managed to get to a few concerts in the last couple of weeks.  The RSNO did Britten's War Requiem which was a pretty impressive undertaking, needing a chamber orchestra, a full symphony orchestra, the organ, two choirs and three soloists.  You can imagine the amount of sound they were able to produce.

Another RSNO concert that I enjoyed very much featured the alto saxophone in a lovely melody played early in Rachmaninov's Symphonic Dances, after which the player had nothing to do except listen to the music.  Much better that way round than waiting for half an hour before blowing your first note.

On St Cecilia's Day there was a lunchtime concert in her very own hall in the Cowgate.  An eclectic selection of pieces played on acoustic guitar by Edinburgh born Adam Brown.

It was a small crowd at the first night of Julius Caesar but a good few more were in last night and both audiences seemed to enjoy the show.  There's a review here which I think is quite a fair one.  From my own point of view it was nice to have a complimentary comment on my performance especially since I haven't been so much as mentioned in a review since 2007, even though I've appeared in more than half a dozen since then.

Road to Perdition is a film I remember for two reasons.  One is that it looked superb.  Indeed it won an Oscar for cinematography.  The other is less complimentary.  I couldn't believe how much money, effort and talent had been applied to not very much at all.

Although most critics liked Feral on the Fringe its revival at The Traverse evoked much the same reaction in me as RtoP.  Planning and executing the show called for a great deal of thought, inventiveness, ingenuity and dedication.  But to what end?  To illustrate in a toytown fashion the dubious thesis that shopping centres lead to the destruction of civilization?

Running alongside Feral was Ciphers.  It wasn't Shakespeare but it was cleverly constructed, well written, well staged and well acted entertainment set in the world of spying. The actors did a great job, having in some cases to converse in Russian and Japanese.  I don't speak either of those languages but it sounded pretty kosher.  It would be straining credulity to say that an hour or two in GCHQ and a brush with a strange Foreign Office department gives me any insight into espionage but the story didn't appear too far-fetched.  Entertainment aside there was food for thought in how pressure might be exerted by "the authorities" on the man in the street in furtherance of so-called national security.

The second tranche of my salsa course is now over and I still can't dance it with any degree of confidence or skill but that's never stopped me enjoying the Gay Gordons so look out you Latin ladies. 
    

I've jigged around from time to time to salsa music and Claire managed to get me more or less doing some proper steps in this wonderful place, but I'm now launched on an intensive salsa beginners course.

The first tranche of three hours was on Saturday morning in Broughton High School.  It was a brand new building when I was last in it to play badminton circa 1973 and it's been rebuilt since.  So it's doing better than my alma mater of KHS whose "new school" dates from the 50s and looked pretty seedy the last time I passed it.

Like Drummond where I do another adult education class Broughton was a hive of activity and I'm sure presented a much livelier and friendlier atmosphere than prevailed in the schools of my time.

That corner of Edinburgh shelters Fettes College and the playing fields of various schools.  They were all in action and it was jolly hard to find a place to park.  When I go back for the second tranche, for there is more, I'll take the bus.

In the meantime I have a wee CD with a man shouting out instructions to practice with.

I also enjoyed a quite different musical experience over the weekend, two actually, or even two and bit if we count the little radio play about Philip Glass and Steve Reich's two men and a van post Julliard experience.  I don't know just how true that was but it was an interesting insight into their different characters.

The RSNO did one of their Naked Classics concerts in which before hearing a piece time is spend telling you something about the composer and the work, illustrating points by playing extracts and so on.  I actually enjoyed that more than I did listening to the performance of Vaughan Williams' 5th Symphony that followed.

The SCO's concert on the other hand was super.  A brand new piece by Peter Maxwell Davis (who was present) was followed by an exhilarating piano concerto by Bartok.

I've been a Bartok fan ever since as a teenager I lay in bed and heard his weird and wonderful  Music for strings, percussion and celesta coming out of a radio just like this powered by batteries just like these.  I'd no idea what a celesta was then and am not much clearer now but the music doesn't sound nearly so weird and it's still a favourite.

Stravinsky is always associated for me with the jagged, even dissonant tones of The Rite of Spring but his Symphony in C which closed the concert was sweet and tuneful, in fact a bit bland for my taste.

There was a degree of upheaval in our production of Julius Caesar when it became clear that Mr Caesar was not going to be able to learn the lines in time.  So he got the bum's rush; Lepidus had his lines wiped out and became Cicero; Cicero (that was me) became Decius (that's now me); and Decius became Caesar.

Opening night two weeks tomorrow will see us word perfect - no sweat.

And finally here's Connor in the Scottish Amateur Poker Championship in which he came a thoroughly respectable 14th out of 140.

I am indebted to Classic FM for the reminder that today is World Saxophone Day, being the anniversary of the birth of its inventor, but their schedule is unforthcoming about how they intend to celebrate.

I imagine they'll choose a tune that's a little more cheery than this melancholy étude.

This is a cause close to my heart and sometimes it seems that all that litter is close to my house. Go to Clean Up Britain and help the country save money and look better.

I slept through most of Monkey Bars and given what little I did see have no regrets.

A glimpse of a smashing weekend in Spain